


Take Me to Church (No Sweeter Innocence Than Our Gentle Sin)

by DarkAislinn



Series: Thedas [1]
Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff, Gen, Love, Unresolved Romantic Tension
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-12
Updated: 2015-05-12
Packaged: 2018-03-30 05:09:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3924055
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarkAislinn/pseuds/DarkAislinn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cullen wrestles with the idea that he might have been the cause of Surana's sudden betrayal of the Circle, despite evidence to the contrary.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Take Me to Church (No Sweeter Innocence Than Our Gentle Sin)

He missed their quiet talks in the library. It was one of the few things he'd enjoyed and looked forward too in the Circle Tower. At the time it didn't seem wrong, but looking back, perhaps that was the start of his fall into her unknowing grasp.

It was no different than when the other Templars talked and even joked with the apprentices. His Templar brothers would jest that he was going down a dark path, but he brushed them off with a laugh. They knew when he didn't that he was in love with her.

It wasn't until one night, the night before her Harrowing, that he realized with a jolt the whispers were right.

_"Apprentice Nedra," he smiled, his heart warming at the sight of her coming around the corner of the bookcase for their ritualistic nightly talk before bed._

_"Ser Cullen," she greeted softly. He frowned at her sad tone and lack of smile. She was always so positive and happy and carefree, but not now. He found it worrisome._

_"What's wrong?" he asked after she perched and settled herself in the chair next to him._

_She sighed, her alabaster hands tangling with each other in her lap. "My Harrowing is tomorrow," she said with a swallow. "I don't know if I am ready."_

_Right, yes. Her Harrowing. He tried to give her a reassuring smile, but his own doubt crept in at the edges. "I wouldn't worry. You mastered your spells long ago and not one single person believes that you will fail."_

_"I heard you will be there," she stated, tilting her head to look at him with those warm, liquid eyes. She was the prettiest elf he ever had the pleasure to look upon and instantly he chastised himself._

_He nodded and let out a breath. "Yes. I-I will be there." Guilt swelled inside of him and threatened to choke him. He knew what he had to do if she failed. He didn't want to think about it. He would never forgive himself if it came to that._

_"Good," she sighed. They sat in silence for a few moments before she spoke again. "I just wish I knew what I am supposed to do tomorrow. I hate not knowing or being able to prepare for it, but at least if you are there then it will make it better."_

_This time she did smile at him, it reaching her wide, slanted eyes, and his heart skipped a beat. It happened more and more often now. In that moment he wanted nothing more than to lean forward and press his lips against hers, to feel the warmth of her skin against his own._

_He jerked and turned his eyes away from her. Shameful, he cursed. She needs your friendship now, not your idle fantasies. Quickly he stood, his chair scraping against the stone floor, and issued an apology._

_"Cullen? Are you ill?" she asked, her face changing to one of worry with brows drawn down sharply._

_No, he wanted to tell her. No, I want to hold you, love you and make you mine. He cursed his poisonous thoughts and shook his head. "No - yes, maybe. I-I just  remembered an important task Greagoir instructed me to do. I'm sorry, but I must go."_

_He hurried away, ignoring her calls and turned his back on her._

The next day was the worst.

_He stood outside the dormitories when he caught her coming down the hall. He wanted to bolt, to run and hide from her, but he couldn't, not since she already spotted him. Instead, he waited on bated breath with his heart beating against his chest frantically until she stopped in front of him._

_"Hello, Cullen," she greeted in her usual warm way with a smile that stabbed him straight in the heart._

_"Hello, mage."_

_Her brows drew down at the cool welcome and frowned. "Are you not going to congratulate me?" she asked._

_"Uh, yes. Congratulations. I'm happy that you passed your Harrowing. But if you'll excuse me, I must be on my way."_

_As he turned, he felt her hand press against his arm to stop him. "I do not know what I have done to cause you to flee at the sight of my person, but I would like to apologize regardless," she said softly. "I am sorry, Cullen, for whatever I have done. I consider you a wonderful friend, one of my only friends. You were the Templar selected to strike me down if I failed my Harrowing and had I failed, had I succumbed to the demons, I would have died happy, knowing it was you who ended my suffering."_

_Her words were like needles under his nails and he felt his heart grow, explode and fall in a million tiny pieces. The lump in his throat was so large he could barely breathe, but he turned towards her and chased away his tears._

_"You have done nothing; it is I who has wronged you. I took advantage of your never ending kindness, your willing friendship, and twisted it into something vile. It is I who should be apologizing to you," he admitted, without having the courage to look at her. If she knew of his feelings and, Maker forgive him, his horrid fantasies, then she would hate him. He couldn't bear it._

_She was so quiet that he thought maybe she had walked away but when he managed to drag his eyes up to her face, he only saw a small, warm smile. "Ser Cullen, my dear friend, you have done nothing to warrant the emotion that torments you so. Had I believed you of something so disgusting, I would have brought it to your attention immediately," she responded with that same soft, ever understanding tone. Her hands reached out to grasp his own armored ones and he jerked away as if she had burnt him._

_"No!" he said vehemently. "No. You cannot understand because you don't know --"_

_"But I do," she cut in quickly, breathlessly, with a rosy blush blooming on her cheeks. "I-I've heard the whispers from the other mages, the rumors of your feelings and I've seen the way you look at me when you think I cannot."_

_His jaw snapped shut with an audible click and he stared at her, his shoulders sagging. "Then you must know how shameful it is and understand why I cannot be seen with you any longer."_

_"Mere conversation is not a crime," she argued, brow scrunching and anger creeping at the edges of her mouth. She laced her fingers together and placed them on her abdomen, her face whitening. "Acting on our feelings is and I would never encourage one or both of us to do so. It would be selfish and we would be miserable hiding and lying about it. I am asking you to be a friend and not turn me away as such. I need your friendship, Cullen. More than you realize, I think."_

_His eyes closed, her words like a symphony to his ears, and he shook his head. He swallowed and swiped his tongue over his dry lips. "You can't say those things," he finally said. "You can't admit your feelings then brush it away and say we are friends. Being near you and now knowing I am not alone in this sin is far too tempting. To have you so close at hand, yet far beyond arm’s reach would be torture. I am not that strong and I must -- I_ have _to beg your forgiveness and turn you away from my friendship."_

_Her mouth parted as if to say something, to argue perhaps, but instead she pressed them together and nodded. Had he not been paying close enough attention, he might have missed the drop in her shoulders before she pulled them back and tilted her head up, aqua eyes meeting his own._

_Her lips pulled up at the edges in a smile, eyes crinkling in the corners with cheeks blushing furiously, and sighed. "I understand your hesitancy and I was too bold to admit such a secret. I was unthinking in my hasty response, but I will always cherish the time we spent together." Deftly, as if she had done it a thousand times, she stood on her tip-toes, hands braced on his armored chest, and pressed a warm kiss against his lips. "I wish you good luck in the future, my dear Cullen."_

_Quickly, without looking at her, he turned and hurried down the corridor, trying to ignore the lingering tingle from her lips._

He had known a Grey Warden was visiting the Circle -- all the Templars had been briefed on his coming -- but he didn't ever think that he would be recruiting one of the mages.

He hoped that maybe he would be looked at for a recruit. It was a fantasy most young boys and men shared alike. Growing up and hearing the tales of the glorious Grey Wardens who defeated the Blights of old often struck envy in their hearts.

He hadn't even known that Duncan had yet arrived at the time. At least, not until he saw him striding down the stone hall behind Nedra later that evening.

_"You are truly interested in the Grey Wardens?" the older man questioned, his face contorted into suspicion._

_"Yes," she said. "I'd be proud to serve, if you would have me."_

_"Having a talented mage like yourself would be invaluable to our cause, but I believe First Enchanter Irving has a great many things planned for you."_

_She stopped and turned to the Warden, crimson brows arched. "He might, but those plans will shatter in the face of a Blight. If you do not have the necessary resources for the war, you will fail and then it will not matter where Irving or I are. He is a wonderful teacher and an even greater man, but he is also very wise and will see reason if you truly wish me to accompany you to Ostagar."_

_The Warden, Duncan, smiled at her. "You sound very much like Alistair, a junior Warden. You would like him, I think," he said. He stared at her for a moment before pursing his lips together. "Wise words from a woman so young, but we shall have to see later. For now, I must look at the candidates Irving and Greagoir allow me too."_

_"You should be able to choose who you want," she huffed. "Greagoir certainly won't give you his best and First Enchanter Irving has already sent his most skilled towards Ostagar." She drew her hand over her forehead, a blush pluming on her cheeks, and smiled. "Forgive me, Ser Duncan. I spoke out of turn and that is impolite at best."_

_"Ah, child, you would do well as a Warden. I am here for a few days so your hope is not lost. We shall see what happens."_

_She nodded and lifted her hand towards a large, mahogany door. "These are your quarters. I hope you have everything you need. If not, you can ask an apprentice for whatever you desire."_

_"Thank you," he said and reached to take her hand, covering it in both of his. "You have been delightful. Tell Irving I am most pleased with my room."_

_She blushed and Cullen felt a surge of jealousy that shocked him straight to his core. He stomped it to dust and gritted his teeth. The Warden is being kind, not lascivious. Get a hold of yourself, man._

_He almost turned away, guilt eating at him for accidentally spying on her, when Jowan, an apprentice, approached her in hushed whispers._

_"I don't understand. Why are you whispering? It looks as if we are committing a crime and that is the last thing I want," she admonished, a frown creasing her features._

_"Don't talk so loud! Look, just meet me here, okay? I promise I'll tell you --"_

_"Is everything alright?" Cullen asked, stepping out from his shadowy cover with with a hand on the hilt of sword._

_She looked up at him with relief and a smile. "Templar Rutherford," she greeted. "I was -- ow! -- merely speaking to my friend about the simple applications of Destruction Magic."_

_"Remember where," Jowan whispered loudly. Nedra impatiently waved him away._

_"Pehaps I am mistaken, but it looked as if he had a conspiracy brewing. I merely meant to head it off."_

_"Truthfully, I don't really understand what it was he wanted," she laughed. It was was soft and deep and he wanted to hear it again and again._

_"I should --"_

_"Have you --_

_They both paused, waiting on the other. She smiled when he nodded at her to continue. "Have you met the Grey Warden?"_

_"I have not. Though it would be an honor."_

_"First Enchanter Irving had me see him to his quarters. He is not what one might expect from a Grey Warden. Less bravado than I was expecting from a warrior. He is looking for recruits," she said. Her brow knit together. "I offered to pledge myself to the Order, but he politely, although firmly, turned me down."_

_"You would truly want to become a Grey Warden?"_

_"Why not? I have control over my magic and with a Blight, they need all willing hands. I would be proud to do so. It might also help with the stigma of mages and elves alike, to bind myself to the Wardens."_

_"But you would give up your home so easily?" he questioned._

_"I would return eventually," she answered, unaware of his sudden erratic heartbeat. "The Circle will forever be my home, but I would love to do something greater. Like you. You gave up your home, your family even, for the Templars. Is it so horrible that I might do the same? I have no one here to tie me down and cause me to reconsider."_

_He took a step back, her words an almost literal slap in the face even though he knew what she meant. She had no family. She was unable to stay with her parents, too many mages in her clan and not a single other able to take her in, and had been dropped off on the Circles doorstep._

_How unwanted did she feel, though? Even he had pushed away her willing friendship and made the decision for her. Had it been he who had caused her to decide she wanted to leave?_

_"Not so horrible," he admitted begrudgingly. "It is a noble and worthy choice. Grey Wardens are respected and you would make a name for yourself."_

_"Perhaps," she said with a small nod. "However, unless Irving allows me to leave, I will stay here and serve the Circle."_

_They grew quiet and simply stood there, neither one allowing their eyes to linger too long on the other. "I suppose I should see what Jowan needed me for," she finally said._

_She turned to leave but stopped when he laid his hand on her arm. "He hasn't asked you to do something you'll regret, has he?"_

_She smiled and shook her head. "No. Truly I do not know what he wishes from me."_

_"If he asks you for something unworthy, know that you can come to me. You are always welcome to seek me out for anything and everything," he said softly._

_"Oh, Cullen," she said, blushing a deep crimson. "That would make your wishes infinitely more difficult to comply with. If you tell me that, and mean it, I would be hard pressed to stay away and not ask -- nay,_ beg _for your friendship and open arms as a lover."_

_He lowered his eyes, the thick muscle ticking in his jaw. "You're right. I did not realize what my offer meant or what it could entail," he replied hollowly, managing to shutter away his expression._

_Her fingers suddenly gripped his and she craned her head to meet his eyes. "If he asks me to do something of a vile nature that would betray my good standing with the Circle, I will go to First Enchanter Irving. Anything else, however, will be brought to your immediate attention as a templar, for I trust you above all others."_

_He smiled, though it didn't reach his eyes. "You think too highly of me," he argued._

_"You are a good man, Cullen, and an even better Templar. You care for us mages and would never see us turn towards blood magic. Not one single mage in this Circle Tower could ask for a better protector or caretaker.”_

_"You are far too kind. I do not deserve such praise, especially from you."_

_Her crimson brows drew down over her emerald eyes and frowned. For a moment, just a split second, he saw anger flash across her face before she caught herself and her features smoothed out once again into a genial smile. The sudden change in her demeanor caught him off guard. Not once had he ever seen her angry and it was a surprise that it was directed at him. "Ser Cullen, you give yourself little to no credit. I am testament to your goodwill and ever generous compassion towards mages. I know even some of the haughtiest and arrogant mages have said the same. I will hear no more of it and I will not let you cut yourself down with doubt. You are a fine example of what a Templar should be. Think about what I have said, but I do need to see to Jowan."_

_"I concede this round," he smiled, gently teasing her, and she shook her head with a blush. "And I will think on your words. I bid you goodnight, then?"_

_Her eyes flickered towards his left and she took a step back with a nod. "Yes, goodnight, Ser Templar Rutherford."_

_She hurried off and he only had a moment to contemplate what changed when he heard the familiar clank of armor. "You need to stay away from her, young Cullen," Greagoir said softly, his tone uncharacteristically kind. "There is a reason I am so harsh in my decision to keep templars and mages separate. Do not delude yourself into thinking I know nothing of how you feel."_

_"I would never assume such, ser."_

_Greagoir laughed and clapped him on the shoulder. "Come, I have a sudden thirst for ale and would enjoy your company."_

The next day he heard of what transpired and he'd felt violently sick to his stomach. She had helped a blood mage destroy his Phylactery. Every thought raced through his mind and he could conjure no reason as to why she had done it. There were rumors, terrible ones, that lit a spitting anger so hot in his belly that it threatened to consume him inside out.

"They were lovers, her and Jowan," a pair whispered loudly.

"Cullen denied her and she was wrought with grief," another argued.

"That templar cast her aside after having her. A jilted lover does many a crazy thing," a mage said as he passed by.

On his way to Irving, one templar and mage cornered him, hissing their disgust. "She had potential and you squandered it. She would have made a difference, but now look at her. Cast out from her home to live a life of tainted agony."

They hurried away before he could utter a single sound and left him gaping. They blamed him? He tried to shake it off, but he couldn't. It latched on to his cerebellum like a blood thirsty leech and was continuously sucking him dry.

He found a grim faced Irving staring at a letter on his desk and he found the courage to ask. "Is it true?"

The First Enchanter looked up, startled, and frowned. "I beg your pardon?"

"The rumors about Ne-- the mage," he corrected quickly. "Is it true she helped a blood mage with no persuasion?"

"Close the door," Irving said quickly. He did as he was told and turned back to face the man who looked just as stricken as he felt. Clasping his hands behind his back, he waited while Irving seemed to have an internal battle with himself. "What have you heard?"

"Rumors," he answered honestly. "Rumors that are... disturbing if true, but I cannot believe them. I knew her, or, at least, I thought I did."

Irving sighed and ran a hand over his tired face. "She acted on my orders. She came to me, letting me know what Jowan was planning, and did just as I asked. I fear, however, that I have sent her to her grave. Greagoir would not listen, so Duncan was forced to conscript her."

He felt relief wash over him like a warm, soothing balm. He exhaled slowly, calming his restless nerves. "That is better than what I had believed."

"Maybe," Irving murmured. "Being forced to become a Grey Warden is no easy life and I regret it came to that. Such a promising young mage."

He didn't know how to respond. On the one hand he wanted to reassure the First Enchanter, but the other warned him to keep quiet. The warning won the battle triumphantly and he stood there awkwardly.

"Is there anything else?" Irving asked, glancing up at him.

"No, First Enchanter. I merely wanted to inquire about her."

Irving's brows drew down low over his eyes and he gazed at him with mild curiosity. "How close were you to her?" he asked, his gravelly voice scraping out the words slowly.

He hesitated. He did not wish to give Irving the wrong impression, however true it may be. Choosing his words carefully, he said, "Closer than most, I think. We were friends, but I was given instructions to cease communications. Some were worried about the depth to which my feelings were extended."

"Did she want to be a Grey Warden?"

"I believe that had the position been offered upon different circumstances she would have gladly accepted. I know she believed it to be a great honor," he answered truthfully.

Irving nodded, his eyes distant. "I see." He looked at him and smiled. "I am glad she had a friend to talk too."

He felt guilt well up inside of him. "I was not the best friend to her," he admitted.

"That may or may not be true, but I can see that you care about her. I can understand why Greagoir would want you to end your friendship," he said. He felt himself flush, cheeks burning a scalding scarlet, and Irving laughed. "Yes, very understandable. Either way, she had you and I thank you for that."

"Er... yes, well, you're welcome, ser," he stuttered out.

Irving waved his hand and quickly he hurried out of the room. Maker's breath, he thought, that was embarrassing.

**Author's Note:**

> First and foremost, I have to thank [Zendelai](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Zendelai/pseuds/Zendelai) for being such a patient beta! She is an amazing writer herself and a lovely friend! 
> 
> This is actually the first part (as of right this second) in the Thedas series as it takes place sometime before [All the Little Lights](http://archiveofourown.org/works/3292211). It was going to be a much longer story but the second part flows different and it felt better to split it into two parts. 
> 
> I can't guarantee that it will be updated quickly, but I will try my best. 
> 
> As always, I hope you enjoyed it! :-)


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